


A Paler Shade of Gray

by Sue Corkill (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:33:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/Sue%20Corkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!”—Sir Walter Scott.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Paler Shade of Gray

**Author's Note:**

> It finally happened, I wrote a post-A 100 Days fic. And surprisingly enough, it’s for Linz. Enjoy!
> 
> Originally posted Nov 2005.

A PALER SHADE OF GRAY

_Sir, isn't this against regulations?_

Sam stood uneasily on his doorstep in the gradually growing light, the shapes of the houses and trees slowly taking on definition. It wasn’t even dawn yet and here she was—preparing to take what amounted to an extreme action on her part in knocking on his door. Even before his abrupt change in personality, she wouldn’t have contemplated coming to his house. It was an act of desperation and she knew it. He had changed and it had knocked her world on its side. The man she knew wouldn’t have acted as he did, done what he did, said what he did. Of course, recent events had her doubting how well she had ever known him. Hell, she wasn’t sure how well she knew herself anymore, given her reactions during the time he was missing on Edora—and his reception of her when they returned for him. 

She hadn’t slept all night; his uncharacteristic behavior, his confusing last words to her and then Daniel’s report of his visit had left her restless and wide-eyed, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. Every time she closed her eyes, she’d see his slightly mocking face and hear his voice again. “No Carter. I haven't been acting like myself since I met you. Now I'm acting like myself.” She couldn’t believe that she had misjudged him so, there had to be another explanation and that’s why she was here, standing on his porch in the early morning light.

Taking a deep breath and determined to talk to him, she straightened her shoulders and rang the doorbell. The house remained dark. She rang it again; she knew he was there, his truck was there. She rang it a third time and a light came on, she could see the faint glow through the living room window. Pressing the button again, she finally heard movement and the door flew open so fast, she automatically took a step back.

He loomed in the doorway, one hand on the door and he looked around her as if he expected to see someone else. “Carter, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked with ill-temper.

Her mouth went dry. He had obviously still been in bed, his hair was mussed and his jaw covered with stubble. Her eyes were helplessly drawn to him, he didn’t have a shirt on and it looked like he’d thrown on a pair of jeans to answer the door; they rode low on his lean hips and he hadn’t taken the time to button the top button—or put on any shoes. 

Sam knew she should drag her eyes away from him, but couldn’t and found herself responding helplessly to him—just as she always did. Unbidden desire hit her low in her gut and she wondered weakly how she could still be so attracted to him when he had turned into someone she didn’t know. But right now, she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his sheltering arms and have him make it all better. Tell her it was all a mistake, that he hadn’t gone bad. But she didn’t and he just continued to silently stand there, looking dangerous and handsome

“May I come in?”

Sam knew by his immediate frown that he didn’t want to let her in, but he stepped aside, forcing her to turn sideways to squeeze in past him. It was a deliberate move, meant to intimidate her, and if her racing heart was any indication, it had worked. She stopped, standing awkwardly just inside the doorway and he reached around her, pushing the door shut. He remained standing in front of her, his pose relaxed and casual, but she knew it was just that—a pose. She had seen that look too many times on missions, he was tense and alert, wary of every move the enemy might make. And she was the enemy.

“Kind of early for a friendly visit, don’t ya’ think?” His voice was deliberately light, but his eyes were cold.

“Sir, I…” Now that she was actually face to face with him, everything she had rehearsed flew out of her mind. “I…don’t understand—“

He cut her off. “There’s nothing to understand, Carter.”

“But sir, how can you ignore everything we’ve done and fought for over the last three years?”

“It’s exactly because of what we’ve done for the last three years that I have to do this.”

“I don’t understand,” she repeated weakly. 

“You keep saying that and I don’t care whether you understand or not, Carter.” While his voice was a lazy drawl, the look in his eyes was chilling. He took a step toward her and she automatically stepped back, her avenue of escape stopped by the hard door against her back. He was like a stranger and was starting to frighten her. “Now unless you’ve come to offer me something a bit more substantial than your ‘friendship’.” His dark eyes roved insolently up and down her body. “I suggest you leave.”

He stepped closer, until he was almost touching her and she stiffened, closing her eyes and cursing the flash of desire that ran through her with his almost overwhelming presence. She could feel the heat emanating off his body, smell his warm and musky scent and, in spite of everything, part of her wanted nothing more than to give into the dark suggestion in his eyes. His arm brushed by her and his breath washed over her cheek when he spoke, his voice low and rough. “Leave now, Sam, before it’s too late.”

Her eyes flew open and she felt the color rush to her face when she saw herself reflected in his mocking, brown eyes. His chest and arm moved against her when he turned the doorknob and then he stepped away, the smirk on his face searing her like a knife and filling her with shame. Fumbling for the doorknob, she finally managed to pull the door open, but before she made her escape she paused, compelled by feelings she usually denied. She didn’t look at him when she spoke. “I just want to help.”

He laughed, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Like I already told you—and Daniel—I don’t need any help.” 

Sam closed her eyes briefly and felt whatever hope that had driven her to go see him shrivel up and die. There really wasn’t anything else for her to say, so she left, the door closing behind her with heartbreaking finality.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Kinda' crossing the line…_

Jack peered through the partially closed blinds of the front window, watching as Sam hurried to her car. He was going to burn in the fires of hell for what he had just done—deservedly so. Even though he knew it was out there, he couldn’t see any sign of the car or the men that watched all the comings and goings at his house, who listened in on his life. It had killed him to treat her like that, but he couldn’t take any chances. Beside the fact that he was undercover, there was no way he wanted Sam involved in any of this. Hell, right now he’d be lucky if she ever spoke to him again after what he had just done. 

Their personal relationship had hit an all-time low after his return from Edora. There had been a subtle change in her attitude towards him, she seemed almost ill-at-ease in his presence, the easy camaraderie that had developed over the two and half years they’d worked together was missing. And yet, he would occasionally glimpse a look of such sad longing in her eyes when he’d glance her way—a look that disturbed him, since he knew he wasn’t meant to see. 

It was that look that had given him hope, because no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the attraction that had always been there had resurfaced hard and fast. In one of the universe’s great ironies, his forced three month stay on Edora had shown him how much he was missing—with Sam. Knocked off balance by the events surrounding his rescue, he’d been less than…appreciative—especially with Sam—something he regretted now. 

And thanks to his current popularity with the Asgard, he was put into a position where he’d had to behave like a jerk and lie to the one woman who had the power to break him. Jack hadn’t needed to see her eyes to know he’d hurt her and yet she still reached out to him. He only hoped she remembered that when everything was said and done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_It’s good to have you back, sir._

Too bad she wasn’t an actress, because she should get nominated for an Academy Award. But then, she was an expert at hiding her feelings as far as it came to a certain Jack O’Neill. She’d played along with Daniel’s little white lie of drawing straws to go see him, since she hadn’t told either Daniel or Teal’c about her disastrous early morning visit.

Sam had escaped to her lab after the little reunion in the gate room, hoping to lose herself in her work, but instead she moved restlessly around the lab. Her roller coaster ride of emotional highs and lows with Jack had left her feeling queasy and hollow inside. She wasn’t sure she could go on like this, her newly-acknowledged feelings for him left her feeling raw and vulnerable and she had finally become resigned to losing him—again, when he miraculously returned, still just as cocky and none-the-worse for the wear for his adventure.

She felt like a hamster on a wheel, her thoughts and emotions chasing through her brain in an endless circle. Did she love him? Was she just insanely attracted to him? She suspected he felt something for her, but was that ‘something’ worth the sacrifices required? And would it last? Finally giving up on trying to make any sense of the squeaking in her head, she opened up her laptop. After all, she did have a mission report to write, soil samples to analyze. Even Jack O’Neill’s triumphant return didn’t stop the wheels of the Air Force from spinning. 

Sam paused, fingers poised over the keyboard and wondered what their next assignment would be, now that the Colonel was back. Knowing him, he’d jump right back in, just as if nothing had happened. And maybe that was the right attitude to take. Her feelings were him were going to get her nowhere fast. She’d told Janet when he’d gone missing on Edora that it wouldn’t be a problem. It was time she made good on that statement. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_…I take it that was all a scam?_

Two down, one to go, Jack thought optimistically, pleased with his encounters with Daniel and Teal’c. Teal’c had been the easiest, of course. He’d been a warrior too long to bear any hurt feelings regarding a covert mission. Daniel would come around; it was in the archaeologist’s nature. Of course, he’d remind Jack of it at every opportunity for the next several years. But Jack was confident that he had smoothed over any ruffled feathers Daniel had.

Which left Sam…. Realistically, he knew he didn’t have to do anything, she’d be the good soldier and carry on like nothing had happened between them. He wouldn’t have to say anything more to her than he’d said to the entire group. What surprised him was that he wanted her to understand. No, it went deeper than that, he acknowledged, he needed her to understand. And he needed her forgiveness. He could have handled her differently that morning she came to him, but he’d ended up using a quick and dirty tactic to get her to leave and he couldn’t bear to have her thinking that was the real Jack O’Neill.

Jack got to her lab and found the door closed; he knocked and then opened it. The lights were off, various and sundry monitors and pieces of equipment blinked and quietly hummed. Well hell, she wasn’t there. And from the look of things, she was gone for the day, which surprised him. Since when did Sam Carter leave the base before 1600? The pessimistic part of him decided sourly that the Sam Carter who wanted to avoid him left before 1600. He thought about leaving her a note, but decided against it, he’d see her tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_It's your choice._

Sam rounded the corner that led onto her street, her feet pounding rhythmically against the pavement. Her legs muscles were starting to feel the burn and she was breathing a little heavier than she liked, but it was a good feeling. It had been too long since she’d actually run outdoors and the crisp morning air combined with the beauty of the early spring trees blooming and flowers budding all combined to make her feel better than she’d felt in a long while. And then she saw the truck. 

Slowing to a walk, her long legs still ate up the distance to her house faster than she wanted, bringing her closer to a conversation she’d hoped to avoid. Sam couldn’t believe he had come to her house, that he would invade the privacy of her…well, her private life this way. Never mind that she had done the same thing to him several weeks earlier, the little voice of reason in her head reminded her. Sam had hoped she’d evaded his attempts to ‘make up’ for his behavior while he’d been working undercover. She knew he had talked to Daniel and Teal’c—Daniel had told her—and she didn’t want to hear his excuses or hear his reasons for what he’d done. And she was afraid of him again—afraid that her new resolve to think of him as nothing more than her commanding officer wouldn’t be able to stand up to his excuses and his charm. 

God help her, she wanted to go back to that time before…before she had fallen in love with him. Back when she still might have had a chance to think of him only as a colleague and friend. But it was too late for that. Her steps slowed even more when she was still several houses away. She’d finally spotted him; he was on her front porch, his posture radiating controlled aggression as he pounded on her door. When he stopped abruptly, she realized he had seen her, his attitude switching to casual patience when he negligently rested his hip against the stone balustrade on her porch and folded his arms across his chest. 

She stopped halfway up her walk and ignored him, starting on her usual post-run stretching routine, a tactic intended more to buy time than to actually cool down her muscles. Sneaking a look at him when she raised her arms over head and did a series of side bends, she almost faltered at his speculative look. His eyes had narrowed as he blatantly watched her and she wondered if maybe her delaying tactic had been a mistake. She started to feel vulnerable, even though she wasn’t wearing anything that he hadn’t seen her in before, her snug athletic tank top and knee length running tights were standard wear. If she felt at a disadvantage because she was hot and sweaty while he looked calm and dangerous, that was her problem—and she’d better get over it fast.

Pulling out of her last toe-touch, she brushed her bangs back off her face and took the few final steps that brought her to the porch. “Sir,” she finally acknowledged him, walking up the steps and past him. “What brings you here?” she finished, slipping the stretchy coil that held her house key off her wrist and unlocking the door.

He followed her in and she kept walking down the hallway to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, she pulled out a bottle of water and screwed off the cap, taking a long drink. Jack’s pose as he leaned against the counter, blocking the entry, was just as casual—and deliberate—as when he was on her porch. 

“Good run?”

“Yeah,” she answered, setting the water down and using the nearby kitchen towel to wipe the sweat off the back of her neck. His eyes were lazy as he continued to just look at her in a way that was starting to unnerve her. He lounged there like he had all the time in the world, while she was hot and sweaty and felt at a distinct disadvantage. “Why are you here? Sir,” she finally just blurted it out, annoyance sharpening her tone.

He folded his arms across his chest, his expression bland. “Just making sure everything’s all right with my team.”

“So we’re still a team?” she asked dryly.

“Of course.” He frowned. “Nothing has changed.”

Sam just stared at him. Did he really think nothing had changed? That the months he’d been marooned on Edora and then his time undercover hadn’t had its impact on all of them? Not to mention her own recently acknowledged feelings for him? “Right sir,” she replied briskly, since it seemed to be what he expected, “nothing’s changed, I’m fine.” She tossed the towel down on the counter. “Is there anything else, sir?” 

“You don’t need to talk about anything?”

If he wanted to pretend everything was okay, she wasn’t going to let him draw her into the trap of spilling her guts. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“Don’t lie to me, Sam.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you,” she snapped unexpectedly, appalled by his arrogance—and the ease with which he managed to push her buttons. 

“What bugs you the most, Carter?” His eyes held that speculative look again that told her he was reassessing the situation and calculating the best way to handle her. “That I lied to you about the mission or that I lied to you?”

“Did you lie to me?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_There's another reason you're angry, isn't there?_

Jack felt an eerie calm settle over him. He’d walked right into that one, he acknowledged with a wry twist of his lips, and she was showing no mercy. But neither would he. “You haven’t answered my question.”

She laughed, a harsh and brittle sound in the quiet kitchen and shook her head. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t answer me.”

“Not everything I said was a lie.” 

“Just most everything?” She had the water bottle in her hands again, twisting the top on and off.

“I had no choice, you know that, Sam.”

She didn’t say anything, but at least she nodded briefly in agreement. “What didn’t you lie about?” 

Calm determination settled over him, it was the question he’d been waiting for. “That morning,” he said slowly, watching her face; feeling as if he’d been granted a reprieve when he saw the dawning recognition in her eyes, “when I told you to leave before it was too late.” 

Sam flushed and he felt a momentary twinge of guilt that he ignored with practiced ease, the time for recrimination was long past. He moved away from the counter and took a step towards her. When she didn’t move or back away, he stepped closer, until they were almost touching. It was just like that morning at his house, when he had succeeded in making her leave but had been left aching with need. All he could see was the top of her blonde head; plucking the water bottle out of her hands, he tilted her head up with a gentle touch under her chin. 

Her clear blue eyes were steady when she gazed up at him and he saw no fear in her eyes. “Is that what you think? That you can just ‘kiss me and make it all better’?” She smiled wryly. “That might’ve worked before…but maybe I’ve changed, because now I need more.”

Acting on pure male instinct, Jack lowered his head, keeping his eyes locked with hers until she was a blur and brushed his lips across hers. “Are you sure?” he murmured roughly, his whole body tightening at the shaft of arousal that ran through him at the almost fleeting touch of their lips. When she didn’t protest or move away, he continued, capturing her lips in an exploratory kiss. He didn’t touch her with anything but his mouth, molding his lips to hers, teasing her with fleeting touches until he felt her hands on his upper arms—but not to push him away.

Before their kisses could become too powerful, he dragged his mouth away and rested his forehead against hers, their breath mingling as they both struggled to breathe. Jack closed his eyes and wrapped his arms loosely around her. The slender hands that rested at his waist moved tentatively and one crept slowly under his pullover, tugging his T-shirt free, before sliding slowly across his back. He smiled, feeling generous, apparently she’d forgiven him. “You know how I feel about clichés,” he murmured against her hair, “but sometimes actions do speak louder than words.”

The hand lightly tracing his spine stopped and suddenly Sam wasn’t in his arms anymore, but stood as far away from him as she could get, backed up against the counter. “You bastard! I don’t want your actions,” she spat. “All your actions tell me is that you’ll manipulate and use me to suit whatever your current agenda happens to be.” She laughed, the sound falling like shards of ice into the room. “How could you possibly think that you could just walk in here today and…seduce me into forgiving you? God, you don’t even know what’s wrong.”

“Then tell me what’s wrong, Sam. Because I get the feeling there’s a hell of a lot more going on than you being pissed because you were out of the loop on the covert op.”

Stark pain flashed through her eyes so fast that for a moment he thought he’d imagined it. And when she closed her eyes, he was sure she wasn’t going to answer him. But then she appeared to collect herself and opened her eyes, her gaze eerily blank, as if she was looking inward. She started talking quietly, almost as if to herself. “When you were marooned,” she looked directly at him then and he nodded, which seemed to satisfy her, as she looked away again. “I missed you. We all missed you, of course. But as the days went on, I realized there was more to it than just missing you.” 

She shrugged, sad amusement on her face now. “Janet saw it first and when we finally got to Edora, to bring you home, well…you hadn’t missed us at all.” Her eyes flashed briefly to his and her lips curved in a wry smile. “No, I take that back. You hadn’t missed me at all.” 

“I thought I was going to be stuck there forever,” he said, in what he knew was a feeble attempt to explain his actions.

“How could you think we wouldn’t come back for you? No matter how long it took?”

God, this was a mess and he didn’t have a reason that she was likely to believe, at least not now. So, if this was going to be the end of…whatever this tangled mess they called their relationship was, he wouldn’t lie to her. “She took me in, Sam,” he explained, his gut telling him exactly what bothered her the most. “Gave me a home.”

“And that was all there was to it?” she asked skeptically. “You were grateful?”

“Maybe.” It wasn’t a lie, he had been grateful and somehow that gratitude had been manipulated into more. He wasn’t a fool and he certainly wasn’t that naïve about what had motivated Laira to take him into her bed. 

“Well then, I guess that explains it all,” she replied in a calm voice that did little to comfort him. She straightened up and was suddenly all brisk and matter-of-fact. “I’m going to go shower now. Be sure and close the door on your way out.”

Anger—and fear—consumed him. He might as well have stayed on Edora if his life was going to be this fucked up now. Moving quickly when she headed for the door, he grabbed her elbow in an implacable grip. She gave him a pointed look, but he didn’t release her. “I’m not the brightest guy when it comes to women, Sam. Hell,” he snorted, “just ask my ex-wife. And contrary to popular inter-galactic belief, I’m not some kind of hero. I’m just a guy trying to do the best that I can. And yeah, maybe I gave up too soon and took what was offered, since I couldn’t have what I really wanted.” His hand fell away, releasing her and he scrubbed his hand over his face, suddenly tired and fed up with the whole thing. “Shit, still can’t have what I really want.”

Sam didn’t run away from him, like he expected. Instead, she just stood there, a cautious light flaring in her somber blue eyes. “Are you saying you want me?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_You have now regained our trust._

Sam waited for his answer, feeling much like she had the first time she’d stepped through the Stargate—like she was going to puke her guts up any minute. He hadn’t admitted all that much, but then to be fair, neither had she. But if the bottom line was that if he wanted her, she would take it, no matter what had happened to bring them to this point.

“Yeah, I do.” Jack looked almost relieved with the admission. 

“It won’t be easy,” she felt compelled to caution. Building another particle beam generator from scratch would probably be easier than rebuilding their relationship, but whatever effort it took would be infinitely more worthwhile. 

“I’m not going to give up on you this time, Sam.”

Taking his hand, she led him down the hall to her bedroom. She might not be making the wisest decision, but right now all she could think was that she needed to bind him to her any way that she could. Sam felt a surprising surge of sympathy for Laira, acknowledging that if she would have been in the other woman’s shoes, she would have done whatever it took to keep him, too.

When they reached her bedroom, she paused on the threshold as another unwelcome thought intruded. Her eyes were almost anxious as she searched his face. “I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

Her insides melted when he smiled, his face full of tender amusement. “I know,” he murmured, one hand gently caressing her cheek before sliding to her nape. “I trust you.” She tilted her head to receive his kiss, his declaration of trust moving her more than any declaration of love ever could. It was easy then, to surrender to his touch and placing her hands on his waist, she started inching them through the doorway. 

“Wait,” he murmured, his voice low and urgent when she slipped out of his embrace.

“For what?” she dared to tease, stripping back the covers on the bed she’d made less than an hour ago. 

His dark brown eyes flashed with fierce desire, sending a corresponding shiver through her. “Nothin’, I guess,” he drawled, already tugging at his belt with one hand.

Sam sat down on the bed, taking her shoes off; her socks hitting the floor at the same time as his belt. She looked up at him then, seeing only a flurry of movement as he pulled his dark navy sweater over his head, along with his T-shirt. Her mouth went dry and the knot of desire low in her belly magnified a hundred-fold. 

It was just like that morning that she’d gone to his house. His hair was hopelessly mussed and she felt the promise in his lazy smile all the way to her womb. She swallowed hard, her eyes moving helplessly down the muscles of his strong, lean chest—a temptation she no longer had to resist. Hungry for more, she followed the line of hair running down from his chest, across his firm abdomen to where it finally disappeared beneath the waistband of his partially unfastened jeans.

Her line of vision was suddenly obstructed by long, elegant fingers casually tugging buttons free and she almost moaned aloud at the thought of those same strong fingers on her flesh. She felt like some kind of voyeur, watching as he undressed, the baggy jeans dropping effortlessly down his trim body. Oh god, she knew she was beyond hopeless when even his feet were sexy. 

He chuckled, the low sound racing along her already over sensitized nerves like the most intimate of caresses. She couldn’t stop the blush that bloomed across her cheeks. “My turn,” he drawled, crawling onto the bed with her. She scooted back, until she lay in the middle of the bed with Jack looming over her. His smile was predatory, but she wasn’t at all alarmed, when his fingers slipped beneath the edge of her tank top, her belly rippling in response to the almost casual touch.

The top was snug and he stripped it off slowly, the act of removing it becoming a caress all in itself. His hands were warm, the slightly rough touch of his fingers abrading her skin and sending shivers of arousal coursing along her sensitive flesh. She finally did moan out loud, when his fingers just grazed her nipples while peeling the soft cotton top over her breasts. He paused, the gray tank top now bunched beneath her arms, those long, elegant fingers stroking almost absentmindedly across her now tightly puckered nipples. 

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, dropping his head and taking one turgid peak into his mouth. 

“Jack,” she whimpered, clutching at his hair, her body moving helplessly to the rhythmic movement of his mouth on her breast. 

Releasing her, he lifted his head, his eyes so dark they were almost black when he looked at her. “What did you say?”

She was confused for a moment, but then she smiled with the confidence of a woman who knows and understands her power. “Jack,” she repeated, her smile indulgent as she reached up and lightly traced her finger along his lips. His lips parted on a fierce smile and she followed his invitation, sliding her finger into his mouth, moving along his gums and teeth until she felt the warm, wet rasp of his tongue caressing her finger. His eyes remained glued to hers, dark and suggestive, and she felt the wetness pooling between her legs, the ache increasing until she thought she would shatter. And just before she reached the breaking point he nipped lightly at her finger and released it, pulling her top over and off.

The top went sailing away and Sam enthusiastically reached for him, wrapping her arms around him as he settled over her again. She responded eagerly to his kiss, their mouths meeting in a deeply erotic kiss, tongues teasing and tasting in a leisurely mating. Her hands moved eagerly over him, enjoying the freedom of being able to touch him. His hair felt like silk against her fingers; his skin smooth and hot where she stroked him, the muscles of his back and shoulders firm beneath her caressing hands.

Jack appeared to enjoy that same freedom, his mouth sliding from hers to leave a trail of damp kisses down her throat. Her nails dug briefly into his nape when she felt the sharp nip of his teeth along her collarbone, followed by the hot suction of his mouth. It would leave a mark, but right now she really didn’t care. His mouth kept moving slowly down her chest and she waited breathlessly for him to reach her breasts. Her nipples were so tight they ached and Sam knew that only Jack had the power to ease that particular pain.

When she felt the first touch of lips just brushing across her breast, she gasped. When he pulled the taut bud into his mouth, she whimpered. Her fingers clutched his head while he sucked hungrily, the pleasure intense and almost more than she could bear. The pure joy of expressing feelings that she had thought would be denied forever, combined with her total sensitivity to his slightest touch was rapidly pulling her into a dark pool of desire that she knew would drown her in its strength. But it didn’t matter, because he would be right there with her.

The ache between her legs was growing once more and she wrapped one leg around his hips; moving restlessly beneath him and trying to force him closer. He controlled her easily though, keeping her pinned beneath his heavier weight. “Jack,” she protested, tugging at his hair. 

He finally raised his head, his dark eyes glazed and unfocused with desire. “What?” he rumbled, his hand already moving to tug gently at the nipple he’d just released.

She arched her hips against him, sliding her hand beneath his boxers to clutch his ass, rubbing against him. “I need you,” she breathed.

His eyes darkened even more and his lips descended to hers in a bruising kiss, one hand already tugging at her tights. It was pure torture for her over-sensitized nerve endings when he stripped the snug tights off, but then she finally kicked them free. Their hands met and fumbled briefly at the waistband of his boxers and then they were off as well.

Sam moaned aloud at the exquisite feel of his hard flesh pressing into her soft folds; Jack’s only response a low growl as he coaxed her to flex her knees even deeper. She complied, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but his fingers threaded through her hair and he kissed her so deeply and tenderly that she immediately relaxed. 

Her senses were assaulted on all fronts by the myriad of sensation engulfing her. She felt totally surrounded and almost overwhelmed by the force of her strong feelings—and by him. He was heavier than she’d ever imagined, his customary BDUs and baggy clothes hiding what she knew to be a lean, fit body. His entire body seemed to blanket hers, the brush of his hair roughened legs along her inner thighs sent chills racing through her, everywhere they touched, setting her nerve endings on fire. She breathed deeply, inhaling the heady aroma that was Jack—his clean, uncomplicated scent mixing with the deeper, musky hues of sweat and sexual arousal. 

Sam clutched frantically at his shoulders when she felt him start to move, but he merely braced himself over her on one arm, his other hand slipping down her belly and sliding through her slick folds, finding her wet and ready. “Yes,” she hissed, when his fingers were replaced with the blunt head of his penis. She trembled with anticipation, her eyes fluttering shut as she angled her pelvis to receive him.

“Sam,” he rumbled, low in her ear. She automatically tightened her arms and legs around him. “Look at me,” he demanded.

She forced heavy eyelids open to find him gazing down at her, his eyes filled with a burning intensity that seared her to her soul. Nothing was hidden in his dark eyes; they were both stripped down to their basic elements. Any doubts she may have still harbored melted into nothingness when confronted with the stark honesty burning in his eyes. 

“I love you.” The three words leapt out unbidden, and she wouldn’t retract them even if she wanted, the depth of her emotions set them free, regardless of the consequences. Sam immediately recognized the pure male satisfaction that filled his face at her confession and everything that was in her responded to the complex tangle of want, desire and need that bound them together. He may have shared his body with Laira, but Sam knew she possessed his soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Now I'm acting like myself._

Nothing could have prepared Jack for the primal rush of possessiveness that surged through him with her confession of love. Her trust and acceptance were more than he ever could have hoped for—or deserved. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t, his feelings too raw and complicated to actually put into words.

“Good,” he rumbled. It wasn’t enough, but it was all he could manage to choke out. And she smiled…like she hadn’t smiled since he’d been rescued. And this time, he wasn’t blind to the love shining brightly in her clear blue eyes. Her trust humbled him and she owned him to his very soul.

Jack needed her more than he needed his next breath and his body urged him to hurry, but he wanted this moment to last. He broached her slowly, drowning in her eyes as she gazed steadily at him, acutely aware of every subtle movement of her quivering flesh against him as he eased his way into her snug body. He wanted to scream, the pleasure was so intense. Sam shifted, her eyes fluttering shut and he groaned, slipping deeper into her welcoming warmth.

Readying himself, Jack slid his hands under her back and gripped her shoulders. His muscles tensed as he prepared to thrust, when her soft voice stopped him. “Wait,” she panted.

His eyes flew to hers. “What?” he asked urgently, concern and dread filling him even though she didn’t seem to be in distress. 

Desire-laden blue eyes fluttered open. “I just want….” She moaned softly, tightening her body around him in an intimate caress, “…to feel you.”

A low growl rumbled up from deep in his chest at her words and he lay still against her for as long as he could before letting the incredible feel of her push him over the edge. Slowly at first, but with increasing confidence, Jack eased into the familiar rhythm. There was none of the awkwardness he usually associated with first sexual encounters, she responded to him effortlessly, as if she could read his mind. No, it was more than that, he realized with unexpected insight, she was so deep inside him that she was a part of him. 

Jack knew Sam Carter the scientist and Sam Carter the soldier well; he respected and admired her dedication and enthusiasm; he counted on her brains and her skill to get them out of difficult situations and watch his back. Sam Carter, his lover, was all that and more, the passion and generosity in her response to him all that he could ever want. The heat, the friction and the amazing tug and pull of her body around him was more than enough to ensure him of what he knew would be an explosive climax—and he desperately needed the same for Sam. 

Trusting her to follow his lead as she had always done in the past, Jack crushed her to his chest and rolled. If there was any confusion during the momentary tangle of limbs, it was minimal. Sam quickly regained her balance and rose majestically above him. The change in position seemed to please her; her hair was tousled, her luscious red lips curved in a slow smile as she looked down at him with languid blue eyes. Jack slowly slid his hands along her thighs to rest them at her waist; her eyes darkened in understanding and her face filled with that familiar look of utter concentration as she started to move. She was beautiful, rocking above him, and he hungrily drank in the sight, savoring each nuance of pleasure that showed on her face.

If he was that sort of man, Jack would swear he’d never seen a woman more beautiful than Sam at this moment, her exquisite body rippling above him while she rode him, her face glowing with sweat and pure desire. Letting her set the pace, his hands lightly stroked along her soft thighs. The seductive pull of ultimate release was an ever-present hum along all his nerve endings, but he resisted the urge to give in, he wanted more. 

Jack moved easily with her, his hips thrusting in an erotic counterpoint to her movements. The sounds of their ragged breathing and flesh moving against flesh the only sounds in the quiet room. His senses were so attuned to the woman astride him, that when she started to falter, her hands coming to rest against his chest to brace herself as she rocked, he knew she was close. Feathering his fingers across her belly, he probed carefully through her damp curls. He fumbled briefly and she was right there, her hand guiding him.

“Just…”she gasped, pressing against his fingers with hers, “right there.”

Jack pressed firmly against the tiny bundle of nerves and she whimpered softly, her hips moving slowly against him now. It didn’t take long until he felt a tremor run through her, her nails suddenly digging into his chest. “Jack!” she cried, now moving her hips frantically against his fingers, her internal muscles clutching rhythmically at his engorged length. Calling upon what little was left of his self control, he labored to keep up the sweet pressure until she finally collapsed with a strangled moan against his chest. 

Sam’s orgasm cascaded through her, pulling him along in her wake. Her still quivering body tugged relentlessly at him and he gripped her hips tightly, grinding his pelvis against hers. Release, pure and sweet, swept through him, his orgasm pulsing through his body and into hers through endless waves of pleasure. The intensity of his orgasm left him drained, but oh-so-satisfied beneath her.

“Sam.” Jack sighed her name softly, his hands gliding slowly up her back to hold her close. She squirmed, nestling closer and he felt her turn her face into his throat.

“Jack,” she murmured, her warm breath washing across his skin followed by the soft brush of her lips against the base of his throat. God, just to hear his name on her lips, to hold her in the sweet aftermath of their lovemaking was a balm for his weary soul. He tightened his arms around her when unwelcome flashbacks of the last time he’d held a woman like this assaulted his mind. He actually didn’t remember much, a vague memory of the satisfaction of physical release which was nothing when compared to the melding of souls he’d just achieved in Sam’s arms.

He must’ve been holding her too tightly, because she squirmed restlessly against him, so he loosened his arms and reluctantly allowed her to slip off him. Sam immediately curled up against his side, her head on his shoulders and one arm draped possessively over him. Jack held her, letting contentment wash through him and felt like he should say something profound. Their whole relationship had changed and what he considered his relatively simple life had become incredibly complex. Stroking his fingers through her hair, he murmured, “So….”

The hand that had been idly caressing his chest stopped and she shifted, raising her head to gaze down at him. She quirked an eyebrow. “So?”

Jack couldn’t tell if she was teasing, the look in her eyes was that gently amused one she so often bestowed on him. He didn’t want there to be any further misunderstandings, therefore he asked, “So, now what?”

Her eyes sparkled, a look of relief and understanding filling her face. “Is that all?”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmured gruffly.

She didn’t say anything for the longest time, her eyes once more guarded as she studied him. A knot tightened in his gut when she asked him the oddest question. Or maybe it wasn’t so odd. “Are you finally acting like yourself?” 

Jack reached up and smoothed her bangs off her forehead, his hand gliding down her cheek in a delicate caress before he splayed his hand possessively on her throat. If he was the man who had somehow managed to be worthy of the love of Samantha Carter, then he was back. “Now I am.” 

“It’s good to have you back,” she paused; her luminous blue eyes sparkled in delight, “Jack.”

THE END


End file.
